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Revisiting Buffy

 Over the last year, I spent a lot of time sitting in front of my computer and writing dry business papers, and the only thing that made that bearable was to put a well-loved show on in the background for a mindless rewatch. Among the shows watched were:        I read somewhere that one of the hallmark behaviors of highly anxious people was to go back and rewatch familiar movies and tv shows or to read books they've read multiple times before. For typical minds, this behavior can be puzzling, but the psychology behind it is that someone who is highly anxious (like yours truly) finds comfort in familiarity. They don't control it, but they know what's coming next. For example, I've been watching Futurama since it first premiered back in 1999 on Fox. I've seen pretty much every episode, including the seventh episode in Season 4: Jurassic Bark. That episode devastates me, so I have the ability to monitor my progress through the episodes and skip that episode every time
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2021. Let's try not to let this year turn into another dumpster fire, mkay?

 This time, it actually *has* been over a year since I last posted here. Whoopsies. I'm not dead, so that might make some of you happy. 2020 definitely gave me a run for my money, but I am clinging to hope that 2021 is going to be even the slightest bit better. I know I'm not the only one who feels this way. Send that positivity out into the cosmos for 2021, alright? We all need it. So much. So what have I been doing all this time? I promise I've been productive and haven't been twiddling my fingers while binging Netflix. I mean, I've done that *some*, but I've done actual things  too! Important things! What probably took most of my time from October 2019 to November 2020 was getting my Master's. I attended an online program, and I am now officially an MBA graduate with an emphasis on IT Management. How adult of me, right? Over the last year, I have written nothing but scads upon scads of business-type papers, stakeholder analyses, SWOT reports, etc., and I


I haven't had a real vacation in several years. I've taken a day off here or there for personal learning opportunities like podcasting conferences or the occasional sick days, but I haven't been able to fully disconnect in much longer than I'd like to admit. I've scheduled an entire week off in October, and I'm already starting to stress about it. We have someone new starting at work to help shoulder some of the load on October 7th, which means I'll have a mere 3 weeks to get her as fully spun up as I can before I'm gone for a week. Luckily, there are some other teammates available to help provide guidance in my absence, so everything should be covered. The goal is to not look at my email or internal messaging client a single time while I'm out (except I will check email once per day because I don't want to come back to 5 million emails in my inbox). But the thought of completely disconnecting for a week stresses me out. Why is that?

52 Weeks of Absence

So it hasn't quite been 52 weeks, but we're closing in on it. I've been busy. Crazily busy. Of course, that's no excuse for failing to write, but luckily, I have been writing! I just haven't been posting it here. Last year, I wrote about how I'd lost confidence in my writing , and while I'm still getting some of that confidence back I've made some pretty fantastic progress. I've thrown myself into the world of audiofiction both as a writer and voice actor, and I'm pretty sure I've finally found my niche. I've always struggled with descriptive writing, and my dialogue has been my strong point for as long as I can remember. Normally, that would simply mean that I'd need to suck it up and practice writing descriptively to get better, but I found that practicing had little to no effect on the quality of my output. Every time I tried to describe a scene, I'd find that even I didn't know what it looked like. The only sort of d
"First off," I say, "I don't remember you being British the last time we talked, bud." This dude - whoever he is - has just popped up all random-like in the middle of my house, and he wants me to do him a favor? He's got another thing coming. "It's part of the agreement, innit?" he posits, his London dialect dripping with condescension. "Contract terms stated I'd hold on to your soul until I found a use for it. Well, I've found a use." "Come on , man." I say. "Not fair. I'm right in the middle of something." "The contract doesn't care if you're in the middle of something, Evan." The Devil leans against a wall, picking dirt from underneath his fingernails. "You can't give me, like, a month or something to clear it up?" "Unfortunately, no," he says. "Don't you want to know what the favour is?" "Not particularly." I honestly